


A Whole New World

by GothamCity



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, Gen, I Don't Even Know, If slash happens it happens, Mostly Gen, My First Fanfic, Vampire Laws, Vampire Sherlock, Vampire Turning, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothamCity/pseuds/GothamCity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ok, So Sherlock is attacked. Strange things begin to happen to him. (If you have read the tags well then you know.) He is thrust into a whole new world. He struggles to secure himself and keep his friends and family safe and in the dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is my first time writing, so please be kind. However, do feel free to comment or review. I kind of have and idea where I want it to go. I was messing around with this idea so I thought it could be cool. Also, I am not the greatest editor. I have an excellent proof reader but I may forget to run it by her so I apologise for any and all mistakes.=)
> 
> Also I forgot to put this when I posted. I don't own these characters!

It was a dark night. Sherlock hardly noticed as he ran through the back alleys on the heels of some murderer. Having successfully declared that the culprit was the brother after looking at the bride’s shoes in the reception hall may not have been the smart course of action. Not like that ever stopped Sherlock.  
The surprisingly empty streets flew by as he ran. This man was pulling out all the stops, choosing the most challenging route. John had been beside him at one point but even army training was no match for Sherlock’s stubbornness or surprising athletic grace.  
Sherlock realized as he mapped out where they were that he was in one of the less populated areas of London. He didn’t have much of a network here. Even his brother’s CTV camera coverage was spotty. This man must know the city almost as well as himself. The man made a sharp turn and Sherlock almost missed it. As he darted down the alleyway, he noticed with glee that it was a dead end. His adversary noticed and made a jump to try and scale the wall but Sherlock was on him. He grabbed the man by the waist and yanked him down hard. The man however, kicked him and rolled into a crouch position. Sherlock readied himself for a fight. There was still a small trickle of blood on the man from where the bride, angry with how her big day had gone downhill, had attacked the man with a knife. The man had used his arm to defend himself before he made his getaway. Sherlock aimed there.  
He struck hard but it had felt like punching brick. He stumbled back clutching his wrist. He nearly didn’t miss the swipe the man sent his way. “Arrrr” His attacker let out an animalistic snarl. Sherlock had seen many people who had been backed into a corner. He had seen how feral and dangerous a human being could be but he had never seen anything like that. The man had drawn his lips back and was hissing. The way he was crouched seemed more animal than human.  
For once, Sherlock actually began to back away. To let someone, something escape. But the man was gone and the beast remained and Sherlock was no longer in control. He started and the man jumped on him. Sherlock twisted away but he hit the ground hard. He tried to scream out. To call for his doctor, his brother, for anyone. He’d even accept Anderson at that moment. Instead he felt the man jab his bloody arm to his mouth. He coughed and sputtered as he inhaled some of the blood. The man leaned over him and whispered, “You should have left well enough alone. This is what happens when you walk unguarded in the night. It swallows you up.” He paused and seemed to contemplate Sherlock. “My, you’ll be beautiful.”  
Sherlock struggled under the man as he tried to stop swallowing the blood. Soon his struggles became quiet. He felt his sense of his body melt away. He couldn’t find his ability to panic though. ‘Ah, just transport any way’ he thought. He looked up and saw he had slipped into his mind palace. He saw Molly but she was flickering in and out. She looked like she was shouting something. That didn’t worry him. What worried him was Mycroft. He too was flickering but he had a look on his face that Sherlock had never seen before. Mycroft looked confused. He looked like he honestly had no grasp, no hold, not even a mere idea what was happening and it was all out in the open and very plain to see. And this look was slowly changing into panic. He looked down at Sherlock as if to ask him for help.  
Sherlock came back to the world as a sharp pain hit his neck. There was a shadow on him, attacking him. He tried to fight, to hit, but he was slowly getting too dizzy. His whole body seemed to be getting heavier. His mind slowed and stuttered to a stop. Eventually he felt the pain leave and a cool wet sensation ran through him. The shadow leaned over him. “See you later "Mijn kind”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to put this in the last chapter. I don't own any of the characters

The darkness was cool, and quiet. He liked the darkness. He didn’t have to question the darkness’ intentions, nor did he have to play nice and mind its feelings. The darkness just was. He want nothing more than to just let go and become one with it. However a thought kept interrupting his sinking and breaking the darkness. “Go.” What a ridiculous statement. Sherlock dismissed it and tried to sink back down. “Go. Go. Go. Go! Go! GO!’’ This nagging thought wouldn’t leave. “Go where?” Sherlock wanted to ask.

Eventually Sherlock was pulled back from the darkness. He tried and just managed to grasp his sense of his body. Using what little strength he had he twisted and began to pull himself along.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Mycroft felt the need to fidget. Of course that meant he didn’t. Instead he looked at the emissary from Russia and smiled. He nodded along to whatever the man was saying. He had directed a minimal amount of his attention to keeping up the conversation. The rest was left to more important matters, like going over what his contact in Uganda said or planning for the meeting with the Queen. And of course, as always, Sherlock. He wasn’t too worried. It had only been 8 hours 46 minutes 28 seconds and 2 no 29 milla seconds since his brother had vanished. He was last seen running after some goldfish. Mycroft never understood his brother’s fascination with them. 

Still, it wasn’t like some random criminal could hurt his brother. No, Sherlock had survived bombs and suicides and tribunals. He wasn’t going to be mowed over by a, a, what was it? Some random man. A wedding usher? Why had Sherlock even been at that wedding? Mycroft hadn’t been informed of any wed- PING.

Mycroft started. His phone had just gone off. And it had been one of the few numbers he had set to have an audible noise. He quickly pulled it out and looked at it. If it had been anyone else they would have paled. Mycroft, however, turned, not caring about manners, and stalked off, leaving a stunned Russian behind him. Anthea quickly came into pace beside him. He looked at her and she quickly sent off three texts. Two to men who had been out all night looking for Sherlock and one to an ambulance. Mycroft just stared at his phone, unable to believe the footage it was showing. A beaten Sherlock Holmes dragging himself along an empty sidewalk. There was a trail of something behind him. It took Mycroft a minute to figure out what it was. Blood.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is another one. It's short so I'll probably give you two. Read and Review please =)

It was luck that the Doctor and the Inspector had been close by. They got the information from Mycroft and took off running. John saw him first. He threw himself down on his knees next to the half dead Sherlock. His hands fumbled for a pulse

There was a moment of horror where he couldn’t find it. But soon he felt it. It didn’t assuage much fear though. It was beating weakly and it was incredible slow.

Sherlock lay unmoving in John arms. His coat was torn a ripped in several places. He was covered it blood. John quickly moved checking for wounds. The only one he found was one he neck. It looked like it had been ripped or clawed at. It looked as though his attacker had tied his scarf to slow the bleeding. Lestrade hovered around calling another ambulance. John shook Sherlock “Hey. Hey. Wake up? Come on Sherlock, come on. Wake up!” He relaxed as Sherlock eyes silted.

“Jawn?” Sherlock stumbled over the name.

“Yeah, Sherlock, yeah. I am here. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“Hurts.” Sherlock whimpered.

“What hurts, Sherlock? Tell me, so I can make it better.”

Sherlock shuddered in John’s arms. “So cold. “ He muttered. He could feel ice following through his veins. “So cold it burns.”

John looked over at Lestrade. “I think he’s in shock. He might he been drugged too.”

“The darkness no’so bad. Actually nice. Sleepy now.” Sherlock cuddled into John.

“Sherlock! Sherlock! No, no, stay awake! Please.”

“Sleepy Now.” Sherlock mutter again before welcoming the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Read and Review, please!  
> I also keep forgetting to put this I don't own these characters

Sherlock shifted. He was warm. Somewhere soft. He couldn’t sense any threat. He heard movement to his left. He slowly opened his eyes. He was blinded by white light. He whined and moved to cover his eyes. In a minute they had slowly adjusted.

“Well I’m glad to see your little venture has permanently damaged you.” There was a figure next to the bed. Sherlock squinted as the figure came into focus. Information slowly trickled in about the figure, like a computer coming back online his brain supplied him with the person’s identity. “Mycroft.” He coughed and tried to sit up.

He felt a hand steady him and try to push him down. He slipped out from under the hand. “Careful.”

Sherlock adjusted to the surroundings “I’m in the hospital. Why?” He coughed. “Can I have some water?”

Mycroft handed him the water. “Tell me what you remember.”

Sherlock drank deeply and then leaned back and steepled his hands. “I was chasing the usher. He tried to climb the wall. I stopped him. And-” Sherlock stopped. He closed his eyes and searched for the memory. He hit a block, a wall in his mind palace that had never been there before. He tried to move it to slip around it but it was solid and firm. His eyes popped back open. “I can’t remember.”

Mycroft’s raised eyebrows. “Elaborate.”

“I’ve hit a wall.”

“Drugs?”

“No. It’s firmer than those. Mycroft, I can’t get around it.” Sherlock closed his eyes and beat on the wall with his fists. Nothing gave way. He opened his eyes. “Mycroft, why am I in a hospital?”

“You were found dragging yourself along one of the back streets. You lost a lot of blood and were quite delirious. It appears the usher tried to cut your throat or something like that” Sherlock’s hand went to his throat. He felt bandage. All of a sudden a flash of teeth and claws and blood went through Sherlock. He screamed and shrieked trying to get away. He swung and fought. He couldn’t breathe! He couldn’t- “SHERLOCK! SHERLOCK STOP YOUR SAFE!” Sherlock opened his eyes. He was being held down by John. He push him off and tried to relax back.

“Sherlock, you okay? You back?”

“Yes.” He glanced behind John and saw Mycroft looking slightly shocked. 

“What happened what did you see?” Mycroft asked. John glared up at him.

“Mycroft he’s hurt and obviously just had an flashback and-“

“It was just pain. Lots of pain and blood.” Sherlock sat up. “I want to leave.”

“Sherlock-“Mycroft and John both began.

“WHEN!” Sherlock snapped.

“If you don’t move then two days.” Mycroft answered.

“Or I could leave right now.” Sherlock moved to stand up, when John stopped him.

“Last time you left the hospital early you nearly killed yourself.” John winced trying not to think of the reason why Sherlock had been in the hospital. “Please for us?”

Sherlock sat back. “Tomorrow. I am leaving tomorrow.” He glared at the two men daring them to object. John and Mycroft looked at each other and decided not to die on this hill.

Sherlock closed his eyes and tried to relax. A sudden unfamiliar urge forced him to sit back up. He looked at John. “Can I have something to eat?”

Mycroft and John watched in amazement as Sherlock ate twice as much as he would have on a normal day. He didn’t even seem to notice the odd looks they were giving him. He finished his second helping and then quickly rolled over and went to sleep. John glanced at Mycroft. “He did lose a lot of blood. Being hungry is normal after that.” Mycroft shook himself out of his dazed thoughts. “Are you sure there was no drugs in his system?”

“We couldn’t tell, he had lost so much blood the concern was keeping what little he had inside him. Besides I didn’t see any puncher marks or anything like that.” John watched Mycroft nervously “What is it?”

“Something is up and I don’t know what it is. It’s very unnerving. How do you people stand it?”

“Stand what?”

“Not knowing”

John punched him in the shoulder. “Git.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for your kudos and comments!! I love them all!!!  
> I apologize for any and all mistakes.
> 
> I don't own these characters, jut plot.

Sherlock stumbled into 22B. He threw himself into his armchair and pulled a blanket over his head. Everything was so bright and loud. His head was pounding.

He groaned as he heard the familiar firm, trained footsteps rushing up the stairs and the slower more graceful footsteps following. He curled up and burrowed into the chair to get away from them.

“Sherlock! You can’t just run off like that!” John stormed in.

“I said I was leaving.”

“I assumed you meant with some one!”

“That’s not my fault.” Sherlock mumbled.

“Gentlemen. Please” Mycroft looked around 22B. Sherlock’s chaos was a little more obvious now that John’s calming influence was gone. He turning his attention back to his sulking little brother. “Sherlock surly you understand Dr. Watson’s fear. You honestly shouldn’t be standing up let alone walking home by yourself.”

“It was too loud there.”

Mycroft’s eyebrows went up and his face softened. John looked back and forth between the two. “What does that mean? Mycroft? Sherlock?” Mycroft held up a hand, silencing John.

Mycroft took a tentative step towards Sherlock. “Sherlock, what do you need?” He asked in a much quieter voice. There was a pause,

“Just go. I need to be alone for a bit.” Sherlock whispered.

 

Mycroft lightly touched the lump in the blanket that was Sherlock. The lump twitched. Mycroft kept his hand steady until Sherlock relaxed. He then walked back to John. “I want you to text me in 3 hours. I will be visiting you tomorrow.” He turned to drag John out. He paused at the door. “Please rest, brother mine.”

Sherlock jumped at the sound of the door closing. He gave a low whine and covered his ears.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sherlock untangled himself from the blanket. He stumbled to his feet. His head was pounding and he was starving hungry. His body hurt with hunger. He wrenched open the fridge and for the first time ever, Sherlock Holmes cursed himself. He had been excited since, with John gone, that he got the whole fridge for his experiments. Now he had no food. He shut the door in disgust. He spun around and tore through the cuboards he had just given up when he saw a box of crackers.

He grabbed the box and ripped it open stuffing his face. He swallowed it and shuddered, grimacing at the saw dust taste. He threw the box and shrieked in anger. He sank down to the floor.

God, he was hungry. Everything was too loud and too bright, and, and, he couldn’t think. He hungry. He could think that. He could focus on the hunger So- so hungry. He head was pounding, he- he had to call- Mycroft- It wasn’t just hunger it was thirst too. He- he was hurt, he was- What was that- that smell?

Sherlock scrambled up. Following the smell he ended up at a cooler he had got from St. Bart’s. He popped the lid. It was had 2 bags of blood that Sherlock had borrowed to experiment on the red blood cells. He didn’t even really think about what he was doing, He bit at the bag. It just smelled so good and- and- oh it tasted even better. “Ooh Ohh”. Sherlock lapped at the sweet, sweet liquid. He moaned when it was gone. Feeling full and sleepy Sherlock stumbled back to the coach and curled up to sleep.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

A buzzing woke him up. He yawned and stretched. Rolling off the couched he crawled over to his buzzing phone.

Status? MH

Sherlock? MH

Answer ASAP. MH

Sherlock! Answer NOW!

Hey Sherlock just wondering if you are alive. Also Mycroft is setting up a party to storm your apartment. I would answer him. Please text back soon. JW

Sherlock shook his head to clear it and quickly typed a message to his brother.

Please don’t call the queens guard. I am alive. SH

The response was immediate. 

Don’t be a child. MH

I’m not the one who is a control freak. Go eat some cake! SH

I will be dropping by tomorrow. Try to be dressed. MH

Bring stuff SH

Stuff? MH

Food stuff. SH Sherlock shuddered remembering the saw dust crackers. He ran a hand down his face. He froze as he saw his hand came away red. He remembered what happened before he slept. He dropped his phone in shock. 

I will see you tomorrow. I will bring ‘stuff’ MH

Sherlock sat down hard on the couch. “Crap.” He whispered.


End file.
